To Be Super
by Cleo Leo
Summary: AU Blaine Anderson's job get's complicated when he is confronted by the man he's supposed to be after. Even harder when he finds himself drawn to a man who seeks his help. Sometimes, the line between the bad and the good is very hard to find. KLAINE
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is a Kurt and Blaine story. Won't be to terribly long, just a two or three shot. But I'm trying to make the chapters a fairly decent length. Anyways. This is AU and in the future, because they're adults. **

**I hope everyone enjoys :)**

**I don't own Glee**

X

"Anderson! Wake up, you're taking over a new case."

Blaine Anderson shot up from his desk, his cheek was red with creases from the papers that had acted as a pillow. He sniffed, blinking back his confusion, rubbing a hand through his slightly matted curls.

"What?" Blaine grumbled, his voice soaked in exhaustion.

"The chief want's to see you. There's another case for you. Not that I think you need it, you're clearly working yourself to death. When was the last time you slept at your apartment?"

Blaine shook his head, trying to clear it. "God Nick, I don't know. I've been busy."

Nick smiled weakly, his face filled with some sort of fondness as well as exasperation. "Drink a cup of coffee and then go see the boss. I know you won't be getting any sleep once you've got your hands on this."

"What?" Blaine asked, perking up immediately.

"Coffee first," Nick chided. "You look terrible."

"Fine, tell the hawk I'll be there in a minute."

Nick rapped his knuckles against the barely exposed wood of Blaine's desk. "Will do," he promised, stretching his arms above his shaggy brown hair and walking away. "And Blaine, you've got a paper clip in your hair."

Blaine huffed at Nicks' retreating form before reaching back up into his hair, feeling around for the piece of bendy wire.

It was true that he couldn't remember the last time he slept in his own bed. He mostly only returned to his apartment to shower and change his clothes. He was almost a permanent fixture at his precinct. He was a hard worker. Brilliant at what he did and he always closed his case. He was addicted to his job. He loved his job. He didn't have a personal life because of it but that had never bothered him.

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the near ancient brewer that was set against the far wall. He sipped his cup fondly, running his free hand over the back of his neck, scratching at the indentations the beaded chain that held his badge had made.

He made a promise then that this night, he would make sure to be home for bed.

Feeling the coffee take it's expected effect, he headed towards the chiefs office. He knocked sharply, his eyes tripping over the yellow lettering on the door and how it looked with the spangled light coming through the wooden blinds that hung on the other side of the glass.

"Enter."

"Hey Chief," Blaine greeted, just sticking his head through the door. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," She greeted, giving Blaine what must have been her version of a fond smile. "Blaine Anderson, come in, take a seat."

Chief Stettson was a tall and intimidating women. Aged a well and stern looking forty-six, she had corn flower blonde hair, littered with sliver and cropped close to her head. This highlighted her long nose and high cheek bones, her face narrow and shrewd.

"Nick said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes I did. I wanted to say good work on The Clark case. Job well done."

"Thank you Chief."

Stettson looked at him thoughtfully. "I've always found you to be far above proficient. You take your work very seriously, you do it well."

"I'm flattered that you think so," Blaine muttered humbly, secretly celebrating that his hard work was actually appreciated.

"We have an open case that's been passed on to us. No one else has been having any success, so now we have a shot. And I'd like you to head this case."

Blaine gaped stupidly at her, completely disbelieving. "I–You want–O-Of course. I'd be honored."

"I'm glad you're so eager," She hummed, turning in her chair, reaching into the filing cabinet she had behind her. She pulled out a thick manilla folder, papers and colored sticky notes sticking out the sides. She let it flop on the desk in front of him, flipping open the front flap.

"I'm sure you know who this is."

The photo that was stapled in the left corner of the top page was blurry and dark, but yes, he knew exactly who that was.

"That's Snatcher."

"Yes. As you know Snatcher is a vigilante that has been plaguing this city for almost five years now. And I know this file looks thick but it really doesn't give us anything to go on. No one can get more than a shit snap shot of this guy. He's in and out of all the places he ends up hitting before anyone can get there and he doesn't leave a trace. He goes mostly after gangs, drug lords, prostitution rings. He steals everything, then leaves them for the cops to find. But's he's also robbed a few businesses."

"Alright."

"He may be catching some of the creeps out there but none of the money is showing up," Stettson frowned. "He's a criminal."

"Of course," Blaine nodded. "So what would you like me to do?"

She closed the folder a slid it closer to him. "This case is all yours. Do what ever it takes. Find out who is. Catch him. Bring him in. You do this Anderson and you'll have a name made for yourself. You'll be in every paper and maybe, make commissioner someday. How does that sound?"

"That sounds like everything I've ever wanted."

"Good. Alright Blaine, get out of here, get to work. I'll let you take that and look it over before you put a little team together, if you need it. It's something I would recommend however. I don't want you taking on more than you can handle."

"Believe me chief this is what I've been waiting for. I won't let you down."

"I putting my trust in you. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't. I swear."

"You're dismissed."

"Thank you."

Blaine almost skipped do his desk, his blood bubbling happy under his skin. This was what he had been waiting for. An opportunity to truly prove himself. This is why he slept at his desk. This is why he lived off of coffee and stale pastries and dry cereal. He had the case of century and he was set on closing this one. More than any other.

X

Blaine pushed his key into the old dead bolt of his door, the flaking white paint of it raining slightly on the ground as he shoved it open with his shoulder, the slightly warped wood had a tendency to stick. It was not a very nice apartment. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't the nicest place on earth to live. A small three room, floored with crack tile and dirty carpet. There was a small balcony ledge outside the bed room window, holding a small planter with long dead shrubs. His kitchen was small, his living room was filled with book shelves and filing cabinets, an old pull out couch sat across from his small T.V. which he almost never had on. Most of his time was spent in his bedroom, his home desktop in the corner holding most of his life and of course his rarely used bed.

He fell back onto his comforter, welcoming the almost forgotten feel of his mattress. Rolling over on his stomach, he slipped off his shoes while reaching into his bag to pull out the large file. It flopped heavily in front of him and he began to thumb through it, skimming it's vast contents.

No one knew much about Snatcher. He was rarely seen and never caught. Any group he decided to hit always ended up in jail, but all the money was never found. So disregarding the fact that he was cutting down the criminal activity in the city, he was still a criminal himself, still a thief.

Blaine slipped one of the photos out of the file, looking at it intently. His eyes looked blue.

Blaine sighed, grumbling and rolling off his bed. A hot shower and bed is what he needed. He wanted to be able tackle his new assignment with vigor and he couldn't do that if he was running on fumes. Nick was right, he wasn't going to be getting much sleep now.

The shower was small and his sink leaked, but his water was hot and his towel was clean. So it was wonderful and soothing and at the moment, probably his favorite place in the world.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, his towel wrapped around his waist, he headed straight to his dresser. He barely had his hand in the top drawer when he was taken by surprise by a silky voice cut through the silence.

"I didn't imagine I'd get a show as well."

Blaine spun around, falling against the wooden drawers, his eyes going wide. Stretched out languidly on his bed, flicking through the pages of the case file was Snatcher himself. He's body was wrapped in black, skin close clothing. His head shielded by his black hood and mask, the stretch of material that usually covered the lower half of his face was pulled down under his chin, revealing a stunning set of teeth.

Blaine quickly opened his second drawer, fumbling around for his spare gun.

"Don't bother. I have you're automatic and your spare. Your phone lines have been cut and I've hidden your cell phone somewhere in this apartment. I hope you have a good time finding it." Snatcher slid off the bed, all too smoothly, his movement were fluid and slightly too sensual for Blaine's liking. "So you're Blaine Anderson?"

"What do you want with me?"

"I heard you were the new head of my case," Snatcher explain, taking a quick sideways glance at the papers on the bed. "I thought I'd pay you a visit."

"That seems highly unusual," Blaine observed, keeping his voice level and calm. "Walking into the home of the person who's looking for you."

"I have incredible confidence in my abilities."

Blaine felt his throat tighten, the glossy quality of Snatchers voice setting him on edge. "Are you here to kill me?"

"Goodness no," Snatcher laughed airily.

"Threaten me then?"

"I wouldn't call it a threat. I just had a few things I'd like to discuss with you."

"And what would you have to discuss with me?"

"Give up my case."

"I'm sorry?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Give up my case," he repeated, taking a few idle steps. "You won't be able to catch me. I just thought you should get a chance to forgo it."

"You're standing in my apartment and you think I can't catch you?"

"I came to you," Snatcher reminded him. "Think about it. You got this case today yet here I am, already in your apartment. I've left you helpless and unable to call out for help. None of your neighbors are home and you're in a towel. If you want to make this hand to hand combat I'm more than happy to oblige. If you don't mind risking you modesty, that is. But believe me, I don't exactly have a problem with that."

Blaine tightened his hold on his towel. "Are you here to dissuade me from doing my job or to flirt with me?"

"The former," Snatcher assured politely. "The later seems to be happening on accident."

"Breathtakingly gorgeous men then, is that your weakness?" Blaine asked, punching out the question with false confidence.

"I have no weakness. And I'm not quite sure you fall under the category of gorgeous men. Handsome, I would have to say yes, a little short but the lovely curls make up for that. They look especially delightful when wet. I hope you leave them loose, you'd be doing yourself a great disservice if you didn't."

"Well this is very telling. You're a homosexual, clearly aware of appearance. So what? You're a hairstylist? A fashion designer, perhaps? You're used to analyzing personal appearance. Maybe a talent scout?"

Snatchers mouth dipped disappointedly. "Jumping to all the stereotypical gay occupations? That's a little bit unfair of you. You're a gay detective, maybe you should be a little more open minded."

Blaine's lips parted in surprise. "How did you know–"

"I'm too good," Snatcher shrugged. "I'm being very kind by letting you know it's pointless. You should be thanking me."

"I should be arresting you."

"Why does everyone want to make me out to be such a bad guy? I've been putting the bad guy's in jail. Some people would consider me a hero."

Blaine gave him a scrutinizing stare. "Putting on a costume does not make you a super hero. You're breaking the law."

"But doing good things by doing that."

"If you wanted to protect people and get the bad guys then you should have become a cop."

"You guys have too many rules to abide by," Snatcher growled. "Too many restrictions. I don't have to worry about those."

"Yes, we have rules. Like not allowing the removal of articles from a crime scene. What have you been doing with all the money?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Snatcher muttered cheekily.

Blaine made a face that he hoped was innocent and slightly flirtatious. "If you wanted to be helpful you could tell me."

"I don't think so, what I do with it is my business."

"Criminals don't last long on these streets."

"Yes," Snatcher smiled. "Because of me."

"No," Blaine ground out. "Because of people like me. How long do you think you can keep this up?"

"Five years and still going strong," Snatcher pointed out.

"That changes now."

"You think you can really get me? No one else had been able too, but you think you can?"

Blaine allowed himself to smirk. "I'm very confident in my abilities."

"Fine," Snatcher submitted, leaning over the bed to push some stray papers back in to the folder. "Don't say I didn't warn you Mr. Anderson."

Blaine felt panic rise back in his chest, but he kept it in check. "Are you going to take the file?"

"No," Snatcher sighed. "I've already looked through it, nothing in there is going to help you."

"You sure know how to dash someone's hopes."

"So I've been told," Snatcher huffed under his breath, picking up one of the photos from the bed and holding it up to his face. "I'll take this photo though."

Blaine watched as the picture was slipped almost magically out of sight. "Why?"

"Best one anyone's ever taken of me. I thought it look nice in my scrapbook."

"What are you doing with the money?" Blaine asked again, hating the weak sound that crept into his voice.

Snatcher stood close, tapping a gloved finger against Blaine's nose. "You'll have to catch me if you want to know."

"Now this sounds like a challenge, not a warning."

Snatcher just smiled, moving away. "I have a feeling I'm going to have a lot of fun with you. I'll see you around Blaine." And he pulled the fabric up above his nose, slipping out of Blaine's small window and into the darkness.

Blaine walked over to his bed, looking at the collection of things now gathered on his bed side table. His two guns were placed there, next to a roll of cash and a piece of paper. He picked it up, reading it slowly.

_Mr. Anderson,_

_You will find you're cell phone in you're silverware drawer in the kitchen, not that you have many utensils in there. The ammunition for both of your guns are on the bookshelf, on top of _Great Expectations._ The money I leave is to fix your phone lines. I'm sorry I had to cut them but it was the only guarantee. Though perhaps you'll wish to use in for something else, your apartment really is a wreck, perhaps you should consider a remodel or at least an interior designer. I'm sure our meeting was a pleasure, I will see you again._

_Snatcher._

_P.S._

_And the money is not stolen, I promise._

X

"I will not be pushed aside, I demand to speak to your superior immediately!"

Blaine jumped slightly as the irritated voice rang through the building. He couldn't see past the other desks and wide pillars, but he could just make out Nick's outline from behind a plant. He did not envy him of having the desk closest to the door.

"I'm sorry sir, but if you could please just calm down, I can have someone talk to you in a minute."

"I don't have minute!" The voice urged. "I have an extremely important event going on at my home this evening and I am receiving threats from a nut job in a mask! I insist on seeing someone in charge."

"If you would just calm yourself and sit down I can bring you someone who can help you," Nick offered calmly.

"Fine. With some urgency please."

A few moments later Nick was walking deliberately to his desk. "Hey Blaine. I think this ones for you."

Blaine set his paper down. "What?"

"Says he got a written threat from Snatcher and as you know, that's officially your department."

"Oh, then send him my way, of course."

Nick seemed to hesitate, before continuing in a hushed tone. "He's really aggressive, I hope you're prepared."

"I'll manage," Blaine swore.

Nick worked his way back through the desks and Blaine distantly heard him instructing the stranger where to go.

Much to Blaine's surprise it was a very handsome thirty something that approached his desk."Detective Anderson?" The man asked quietly, not sounding at all like he had a moment before.

"Blaine is fine," he told the man in the well tailored grey suit. "Please take a seat. And you are?"

"Kurt Hummel. Thank you for seeing me."

Blaine smiled. "Well it sounded like you wouldn't have it any other way."

"I am sorry about that," Kurt said, his head hanging meekly. "Please understand I'm in such a situation, I don't know what to do."

"What's the problem?"

"This morning I found this letter on my bedside table. I didn't think twice about reading it, so I'm afraid I've already ruined it for trace or whatever it is you call it," Kurt set the paper in front of Blaine on the desk, who moved it closer with a pencil. "I didn't know what to do so I came here."

_Refrain for holding your event or face the consequences._

_Snatcher_

"What event?" Blaine asked, admiring the slightly familiar scrawl.

"I'm holding an auction at my home this evening."

"And why do you think Snatcher would wish to stop it?"

"There will be a lot of very rich people there," Kurt explained. "Which means that some of those guests might not be the nicest of people."

"Dirty money," Blaine interpreted.

"Some of them, perhaps," Kurt admitted. "A portion of the proceeds will be going to a cancer research charity, but–"

"But you don't think Snatcher believe's that makes up for it."

"Or that it's not enough," Kurt elaborated. "I know nothing about this man other than what I've heard in the papers. Some of the attendees tonight have been robbed by him. I'm worried that I'm next."

"Are you one of those with bad money?" Blaine asked.

"If I was I probably wouldn't tell you, would I?" Kurt said slyly. "But no, I'm a very successful investor and business man. I've earned my wealth."

"That's fine Mr, Hummel, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. But what would you like us to do? There isn't anyway we can prove this letter is from him. Even if there was something to trace we would have nothing to compare it too."_ Lie_

Kurt leaned forward slightly in his chair. "I would like to request your protective services at my home tonight."

"Come again?" Blaine requested.

"I would like additional protective services provided by your department at my home tonight. You are after him aren't you?" Kurt asked earnestly. "I won't cancel my party, which means he'll be there, isn't that an opportunity for you?"

"Well of course," Blaine said. "But this kind of operation would take time. We can't just show up at your house and hope for the best."

"I could have just hired extra security but I decided to come to the police and ask for help and you're telling me you won't?" Kurt voice went up in pitch, a flush pushing up his neck and his ears, clearly fighting anger.

Blaine fought a smile, Kurt looked delightful when he was mad. "It's not that I don't want to help Mr. Hummel, but you have to understand that there are protocols I have to follow. If a team hasn't been properly briefed it could be very dangerous."

"Fine, I will seek help elsewhere," Kurt said in huff, standing from the chair. "Have a good day Mr. Anderson,"

"Mr. Hummel!" Blaine called after him. "Wait. I suppose another agent and myself could patrol your party. In case something were to happen and this isn't just a hoax."

Kurt smiled gratefully, stepping back towards the cluttered desk. "Thank you Mr. Anderson."

"Blaine is fine."

Kurt grinned. "Thank you Blaine."

"Alright," Blaine said stanfing, offereing his hand for Kurt to shake. "We will come to your residence in an hour then."

"Wonderful. And, if I might ask a small favor?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Is there any way you might come in formal attire?" Kurt asked. "I would prefer is you could blend in with the rest of the guests."

"I can't guarantee that, but I will try to appear inconspicious."

"Thank you. The press might be there, trying to snap some shots of the well-to-do's, so it would be best to be able to pass as guest, I don't wish to alarm anyone by having them know the authorities are there."

"I understand," Blaine nodded. "My partner and I will be discreet."

"Wonderful. I'm sure you look great in a suit," Kurt praised with a small wink, sauntering out of the precinct.

Blaine couldn't help but watch the delicious swing of the mans hips as he went. Damn, he needed to get a nice suit.

X

**So that's the first chapter. Please leave any question, comments or concerns in the form of a review or PM. I'd love to hear from the readers, no matter the topic. Thank you for reading :)**

**Butterscotch,**

_**Cleo Leo**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to the six reviewers!**

AnnielovesKlaine

Muchacha

Gleegirl17

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Yune

QueenMirror

It's nice to hear from some of you again :)

I don't own Glee

X

Blaine slid out of the car, tucking his gun into the waist of his pants, buttoning up his black suit jacket. Nick sidled up next to him, watching him with an amused smile as Blaine straitened his tie.

"What?" Blaine asked, catching his eye.

"What's got you preening like a peacock?" Nick asked, not hiding any of his amusement, his smile cheeky and all teeth.

Blaine frowned, dropping his hands quickly. "I am not preening."

"Your tie has been straight the last three times you've gone to adjust it."

"I'm just not used to it."

"And it has nothing to do with that tall brunet number that came in today?" Nick asked innocently, starting down the street. "The one who we're about to see again?"

"And why would you say that?"

"You bought a new suit to impress him."

"It's not new. I've worn this before."

"There's a price tag sticking out the collar."

"Shit," Blaine gasped, reaching to the back of his neck and pulling at the small piece of cardboard.

Nick took the tag from him, slipping it into his own pocket. "So you have a thing for this Mr. Hummel?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I don't even know him."

"But you want to," Nick teased.

"Come on Nick behave. We have a job to do, this isn't the time."

"It's okay have you have a little crush. I don't really understand why, he seemed like a bit of a jerk."

"He's not," Blaine insisted. "He was frantic because he was scared. Once he calmed down he was...nice. And kind of flirty, but that doesn't mean anything. And right now we are on the job so no funny business. Keep you're comments to yourself."

"Well after tonight there won't be any reason not to ask him out," Nick pointed out helpfully.

"Please, like I need dating advice from you. When was that last time you went out?"

"Amber Townsly, four months ago. Had an exceptionally lousy dinner. She didn't call me and I didn't call her."

Blaine laughed. "Clearly you are not meant to be my guru."

"Fine, do what you want. But I can tell you," Nick teased. "He looked much happier when he was leaving than when he first came in."

"Irrelevant," Blaine said as they stopped at the front walk of as incredibly impressive house They knew they were in a rich neighborhood but this house took the cake. "Let's go, with an evening like this who knows what we'll get into. You remember the rules?"

"Of course: No wine, no champagne, no fancy drinks. But can we at least have some of those neat little snacks on the trays that get carried around?"

"No."

Nick pouted. "Now I wish you had picked someone else. Bet this will be a lousy evening."

"We might catch one of the most wanted men of the city," Blaine offered as a small consolation for his friends impending hunger.

"For some reason that doesn't make me feel any better about the no eating thing."

They strode quickly up the long dark stone laid drive of Kurt Hummels' home. A vast two story house with arches and pillars and large glass windows with a gray shingle roof made Blaines heart thud a little bit. Kurt obviously possessed more money now than Blaine ever would in his entire life.

Nick looked at him expectantly but Blaine just stared stupidly at the ornate door knocker. Nick grinned, smacking Blaine on the back of the head before lifting the knocker for himself, letting it fall against the rich wood of the door.

A women with red hair pulled into a soft bun opened the door. She wore a clean and stylish three piece suit, a string of pearls hanging around her lightly freckled throat and a clip board in her perfectly manicured hands. "Yes, can I help you?"

It was Nick's turn to look blankly ahead.

"Hi, I'm Detective Anderson and this is Detective Conners, we're here to see Kurt Hummel."

"Yes of course, he told you'd be coming. Come in," She stepped aside, letting them in to the marbled foyer. "I'm Miss Browning, Mr. Hummel's assistant. I'll let him know you're here."

Nick gazed at the secretary's quickly disappearing form. "I wonder if there is a first name to go with that face."

"Nick, please," Blaine begged placing a finger under his friends chin and closing his open jaw. "Control yourself."

"You have your eye candy and I have mine."

Speaking of eye candy

Kurt walked briskly towards them, his hand extended to shake. "Detective Anderson, hello."

"Good evening Mr. Hummel," Blaine greeted, his hand attaching briefly to Kurts'. "This is Detective Nick Conners."

"We've met," Kurt said sheepishly, giving another firm handshake. "I'm sorry for the way I acted."

"It's fine," Nick dismissed, his gazing shift occasionally to the red head. "People act differently when they're under stress."

Kurt nodded. "Patricia if you could take Blaine and Nick and give them a tour of the house? I'm sure they need to get familiar with the layout, make sure they know where all the emergency exits are."

"Of course, gentlemen if you could follow me."

Nick was already stepping eagerly towards Patricia while Blaine took half a step in Kurts' direction. "Mr. Hummel if I might have a word first?"

"Certainly. Patricia if you would take Detective Conners to the kitchen for a refreshment, Blaine and I will speak in the parlor."

Kurt lead him to a small room filed with books off to the right of the main hall, holding the door open for him.

"Thank you Mr. Hummel."

"Kurt, please," He corrected, leaning casually against the wall of books, stroking the spins thoughtfully. "You're my guests tonight, no one else will be calling Mr. Hummel."

"Of course Kurt, forgive me. You come off as someone who should be addressed with respect."

Kurt gave a sweet smile. "How nice of you to notice. But please, call me Kurt, you've already requested I call you Blaine, it seems only fair. So what is it you would like to discuss?"

Blaine adverted his gaze, turning his attention to glance at the titles of the books while he dove into reciting the plan. "Nick and I will be patrolling through your home this evening, but we would like to be able to check in with you on regular intervals. We have to assume you are his intended target and we would need to be able to keep you in our sights. If we could set a location, say every twenty minuets or so Nick and I could ensure you're safe."

"That seems like so much work. Having to check in on me so often."

"It's for your own safety Kurt."

"No I understand that," Kurt said with a shake of his head. "But wouldn't it be easier to just have one of you follow me around all evening. Safest thing would be just to keep one of you at my side, right?"

"Well that wouldn't be fair. Only one of us would be able to do that," Blaine said smoothly. "And I'd hate to leave Nick alone all evening."

Kurt gave a look of mock offense. "Who said I wanted you to keep me company? I did meet him first, I think we had a real connection."

"I think he's trying to find a real connection with your assistant. I'm afraid your out of luck there."

"What a shame," Kurt sighed.

Blaine laughed boldly. "Do you think this is really the time to be looking for a boyfriend?"

"I don't like to think I'm looking," Kurt explained, striding to the small table in the center of the room, leaning against it. "I'd just like to think it will come to me, when it feels the need to appear."

"But what if the mountain won't come to Muhammad?"

"Then I suppose, Muhammad will have to change his plan and go to the mountain," Kurt appeared to pause thoughtfully, looking Blaine up and down. "You look wonderful in that suit."

"I'm glad it meets your approval. You obviously have very good taste. That's a pretty fancy get up you have."

Kurt ran his fingers down the thin ebony tie. His wrist gracing the soft shimmery black of his lapel. "I try to make myself presentable. I originally had on a bow tie but I thought the tie might be better for this evening."

"And why is that?" Blaine asked.

"You never know when someone might need to tug you along into a broom closest. I'd just like to be prepared."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I don't think coat room excursions should be in you plans for this evening. We need to keep an eye on you, remember?"

Kurt stood up straight, stepping a little bit closer to Blaine. "Well then you'd just have to come in there with me."

Blaine spluttered, his tongue tripping over words, desperate to form any sort of sentence.

Kurt ignored his obvious distress, walking confidently to the door. "We should go, Mr. Conners probably isn't fairing to well with Patricia."

When they returned to the kitchen Nick was leaning over the counter top with a glass of water in hand. He had a goofy smile on his face, trying to make Patricia look at him, who was staring focused at her clipboard.

"So, do you like food?"

"Yes, I like food. But no, I will not go eat some with you." She looked up when she heard them enter. "Kurt, I'm sorry could you please handle the tour? I feel my IQ dropping."

"That's fine, that caters should be arriving any moment. You know the drill."

She nodded, walking briskly out of the kitchen, her heels clicking rapidly as she did so.

Nick watched pathetically as she left. Blaine resisted the urge to laugh at his friends distress, instead turning is attention back to Kurt as he took them around his large home. "Do you hold these sort of events often?"

"I've had a few events thrown here. This is the first auction though. The auctioneers are already in the rooms. I have them located in the living room and one of the larger parlors. The ball room will be holding the guest while they're not bidding."

"Okay so it will be just those three rooms the guests will have access to."

"That's the plan, I have someone checking coats, so only they will have access to that room. All the bedrooms are upstairs, and I'll have Patricia there to make sure no one heads that way."

"And your security systems are working?" Nick asked, taking a look at one of the motion detectors on a wall.

"Yes, and I've made sure all the windows are shut and locked. If he tries to get in there isn't any way we won't hear him. I have a few cameras on the outside perimeter. Everything else will be shut down though, due to the guests."

"You've really thought this through," Blaine said.

Kurt eyes fell softly."I hope I don't sound to selfish when I say I don't want any damage coming to me or my home this evening."

"Well that's what we want too," Blaine smiled.

X

"Would it be totally inappropriate for me too ask Kurt on a date when this is all over?"

Nick and Blaine were wondering through the large ball room, weaving past the crowds of well dressed guests, all of whom were sipping champagne and wine with an air of practiced ease.

"Isn't that what I suggested you do in the very beginning?"

Blaine shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding his head. "I know but...I think he likes me. He was definitely flirting earlier. Heavy flirting."

"Then ask him out," Nick instructed, pulling back a curtain to glance in to the dark back yard. "You're an adult Blaine, if you like the guy take him out to dinner, if it goes well then go out again. And maybe you can get Miss Brownings number. She's a fiery little thing."

"I don't think she likes you very much."

"Minor detail."

"You are asking for a restraining order."

Nick simply sighed. "She just doesn't know I'm here soul mate yet."

"You give law enforcement officers a bad name."

"Okay okay, we're talking about you," Nick urged. "Do you know anything about Kurt?"

"He's an investor and he's holding an auction at his home this evening."

"Okay..."

Blaine bit his lip, suddenly feeling very foolish. "And he's very attractive."

"Shallow," Nick blurted.

"Oh come on, you can't help but notice looks first," Blaine defended himself. "But he's very witty. And charming, and he has...a great smile."

"Okay, so ask him out. Get through tonight, then ask him out. If you said he was flirting with you then he probably won't say no."

"I won't seem creepy?" Blaine wondered.

"You said he was into you! He'll probably be thankful," Nicks' eyes followed one of the waiters. "What makes you think he likes you though? I don't want you to read the signs incorrectly."

"He said he liked my suit."

"Okay. I like your suit too, doesn't mean I want you."

"I'm not sure but he might have suggested making out in a closet..."

"Yeah, ask him out."

Blaine grinned, looking down at his watch. "It's nine-forty. We should meet up with Kurt."

"You go ahead," Nick said. "I'm gonna keep bouncing between these rooms."

"Fine," Blaine agreed. "And don't eat anything, you're on duty."

"Of course, I'm a professional." So the moment Blaine's back was turned, Nick was of course reaching onto the tray of a passing server, snagging a delicious looking crab cake.

X

Kurt was chatting with a group his guests. Blaine watched for a moment, Kurt laughed at something the slim blonde in the shimmering evening gown said. He raised his wine glass to his mouth, his lips slipping over his perfect teeth and the crystalline brim of the bowl.

Blaine walked over to him, smiling warmly and tapping him on the shoulder.

"Kurt! There you are I've been looking for you all evening. I wanted you opinion on a vase I was thinking of bidding on."

"Blaine of course. You shouldn't be allowed to buy anything without my guidance, you're just helpless without it," Kurt touched the women gently on the arm. "If you'll excuse me."

"Helpless without you?" Blaine whispered as they walked away. "Laying that on a little thick don't you think?"

Kurt laughed softly. Everything about Kurt was soft and gentle and warm. "Who knows, it could be true."

"Maybe you'll find out someday." Blaine muttered.

"So how are things?" Kurt asked casually, sipping at his drink. "All still well?"

"I haven't seen anything suspicious. If the note was from Snatcher perhaps it was just an empty threat."

"Well I hope so. So far the evenings been very nice, I would hate to have it ruined."

"Are you always this busy?" Blaine asked, looking around at the rich crowd. "Throwing parties and entertaining the well to do?"

"Not always. I can always make time for other things. Maybe more important things."

Blaine leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping conspiringly. "That's good to know. Because I was wondering is you wanted to–"

But a small group of tipsy women fell into them, giggling apologetically and scurrying away.

"Oh!"

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, reaching for Kurt's arm to steady him.

"Yes," Kurt confirmed, glancing down. "But my shirt is ruined. I'll be right back I need to change."

"Okay. Would you like me to take you to you room?"

"Please Blaine, I'm not a child. I'll just switch shirts and be back down. If you want you can wait at the staircase with Patricia. I'm sure she has lots she can't talk to you about. Probably that not so charming partner of yours. I'm positive he's made it to the top of her list."

"List of what?"

"People to have incarcerated."

"Ahh, I see."

They entered the entry way, Kurt's hand resting on Blaine's arm for a moment. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, I kind of want to hear the rest of that question."

Kurt smiled slyly, striding gracefully up the curving staircase. Blaine strode nonchalantly up to Patricia, who was sitting in a chair placed at the foot of the stairs, reading a book.

"Hello Miss browning."

"Good evening Mr. Anderson. How to do you find the soiree?"

"As a pretend guest I'm finding it very enjoyable. But since I'm doing my job I'm very on edge."

"You seem to be doing a good job," she observed. "No problems yet."

"That's what I like," Blaine said, sitting on a step. "So what can you tell me about Kurt?"

Patricia folded the book in her lap. "What would you like to know?"

"Is he a serial killer?"

"No he is not. He's actually a very good person."

"Any boyfriends?"

"He's had them, but right now he's single," Patricia gave him a solid stare. "I'm sure that pleases you."

"You have no idea."

"Well he's very–"

A scream rang through the high ceiling, causing Blaine's heart to jolt heavily, his voice coming out in a gasp. "Kurt."

He bolted up the steps, leaping over them three at a time. He was barely at the top landing when he caught sigh of Snatcher heading towards the opposite end of the hall. Blaine chased after him, following as he ducked through one of the doors. It was dark in the huge spare bedroom but Blaine was just able to see the figure going towards the open window, where the moonlight shined lazily thorugh. Blaine yanked him away from the window sill, causing the pair of them to tumble onto the floor.

They both let out low groan. Blaine fumbled, his hands trying to grab at Snatcher, but the variety of black fabrics made it difficult to get a firm grip. Snatcher slid out of the frantic pull of Blaines grasp, rolling over to regain his footing. He got behind Blaine, pulling both his arms behind him sharply.

"Hello Mr. Anderson," he growled into his ear. "I knew I'd see you again but I didn't think it would be so soon. What are you doing here?"

"Heard you might be here," Blaine gasped, struggling against the painful hold. "Why would I miss such an opportunity?"

"Is that it? Really? Or has Kurt Hummel caught your attention? He is a lovely piece of work isn't he?"

"What do you want with him?"

The cloth barrier across Snatchers mouth did nothing to make him feel comfortable, the mans teeth still felt dangerously close to the flesh of his ear. "Please Blaine, it isn't just him. You aren't looking at the big picture. It's all of these people. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, but something has got to be done."

Blaine struggled, pushing them backwards to ram Snatcher into the wall with a painful thud. The grip was loosened enough for him to slip away, but even as he reached for his weapon he saw that Snatcher already had it in his hand.

Snatchers hard voice was cold and teasing. "Well I guess this put's you in a bit of a predicament doesn't it?"

Blaine just stared, his eyes wide.

"Don't worry Blaine," Snatcher laughed humorlessly. "I don't use guns. I'm not very big on weapons." Snatcher set the safety and then tossed the firearm to the other side of the room, where it slid away, no good to either of them.

"You aren't leaving," Blaine bit.

"Watch me."

Snatcher made a wild dive to the window but Blaine was ready, reflexively throwing himself at him. They collided, falling into a wooden cabinet which wobbled fitfully, prepared to fall. Snatcher rolled them out of the way, quickly gaining the upper hand on Blaine again, pinning him successfully to the floor as the falling drawers managed to avoid them.

"You know Blaine, you really are quite yummy," Snatcher proclaimed, his pelvis pushed forcefully into Blaine, keeping him down. "Not breathtaking, but there is something that keeps me wanting to look again."

Blaine glared, his jaw clenched. "Forgive me if I'm not flattered."

"Oh Blaine, you are a silly thing, you have so much to learn. Till next time."

Snatcher rose slightly, letting a knee crash abruptly into Blaines stomach, causing him to chock on the feeling of airlessness. Snatcher was out the window before Blaine could even stand. Panicking, he stumbled to his gun and headed to the window, but he didn't see him. He growled, running to the staircase, nearly colliding with Nick.

"Blaine? What's going, Patricia came looking for me–"

"Snatcher, outside, go."

They both hurtled down the stairs, Blaine indicating for Nick to take the front while Blaine took the back. With his gun poised he searched in the low light darkness but couldn't find him. He glanced at the high fences that separated the yard from the ones next door. He probably valuated over the high gates into someone else's estate.

"You find anything?" Nick asked, coming round the side of the house.

"No, he's gone," Blaine hissed, tucking his gun away. "God damn it! We were...I practically had him and he...why does he always have the advantage?"

Nick grabbed Blaine's shoulders. "Blaine, it's alright, calm down. Now where's Kurt?"

"Oh my god, Kurt."

Blaine ran back into the house and up to the bedrooms, opening each door until he found Kurt's room. There at the open door of the closet was Kurt. He was half dressed, a clean shirt in his hand, the wine stained one resting on a chair. He kneeled next to Kurt's body, turning him over and feeling for a pulse.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, shaking him slightly.

Kurt moaned, his eyes opening and his hand quickly going to clutch his head.

"Kurt are you okay? What happened?"

"I don't...I was changing...I though I saw someone in the mirror and then...he hit me with something. Snatcher was here he...my head."

Blaine felt Kurt's skull gently. "Well you aren't bleeding but I can feel a pretty nice bump forming. Maybe we should get you to the hospital, have it checked out."

"I think I'm okay," Kurt muttered.

"Okay," Blaine said, wrapping his arms around Kurt. "Let's stand you up, if you feel dizzy your going to the hospital."

"Alright."

They stood slowly, Kurt retaining his balance well.

"How's that?"

"I feel fine. Honest, I'm okay."

"Alright, just sit down," Blaine instructed, leading his to a cushy, cream colored chair and kneeling in front of him. "Nick, can you find Patricia, get some ice for his head and a glass of water."

Nick nodded, heading out of the room.

"Where'd Snatcher go? Did you get him?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"No. One of your guest rooms had a window open, he got away."

"Are you okay? You aren't hurt are you?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Kurt rose his hand, a slim finger just brushing Blaine's forehead as he moved a frantic curl. "I kind of can't help it."

"You're concerned about me?" Blaine smiled coquettishly.

"I was on edge most of the night. I really hoped he wouldn't show up, I didn't want you to get hurt."

"All part of the job."

Kurt hung his head low, speaking softly. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," Blaine said simply.

"So what was that thing you were going to ask me?" Kurt asked, looking up shyly. "Before that dreadfully wine incident?"

Blaine cleared his throat. "I was going to ask if you'd be interested in getting dinner sometime? You seemed...I just thought...I thought you were interested."

"Yes," Kurt jumped in enthusiastically. "Yes, I would love too, I'm very interested."

"Great, we can...that's great."

Nick stumbled into the room followed quickly by a panic stricken Patricia. "Blaine, I've got the ice." Nick handed the bag over and Blaine held it carefully to Kurt's head.

"Kurt are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?" She questioned, handing him a glass of water.

"I'm fine Patricia, thank you."

"Are you sure? Should I ask the guests to leave?"

"No, there isn't any need to alarm them. Everything's fine now."

"What on earth happened?" Patricia asked looking to Kurt and Blaine.

"Snatcher," Blaine frowned. "He showed up after all."

Patricia slender mouth curled, seeming frightened. "Did he say anything?"

"No."

"Did he take anything?" Nick asked.

Kurt blinked slowly. "I don't...I don't think so."

"Alright," Blaine said standing, his tone professional and no nonsense. "Let's clear this room. And don't touch anything, we can have the upstairs processed, see if we can come up with anything. And we will need the camera footage."

"Can't it wait?" Kurt blurted out, his eyes wide. "The party–"

"Has to be over. Your home is a crime scene now, I'm very sorry Kurt."

"It's okay," Kurt promised, standing up, motioning for his assistant. "Come Patricia, we need to apologize to the guests."

"Of course."

She held his arm as they walked carefully to the door, Kurt turned slightly."Thank you gentlemen, you have been very accommodating and helpful."

"No problem," Nick shrugged.

"Blaine I– Thank you. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yes," Blaine affirmed with a smile. "Later."

X

**Thus ends chapter three. I'm sorry but I'm no good at writing action. This isn't a style I'm very practiced in, so for that I apologize.**

**Thanks to those reading, reviewing and alerting :) Makes me happy.**

**Carmel corn,**

_**Cleo Leo**_


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